the secret to falling apart
by Beyond the Boundary
Summary: AU. Emily never leaves after Season 7 and she stays on the team for another year. However, during this time, her friends begin to notice that she's behaving strangely. And on November 2nd, 2013, Emily Prentiss dies, and this time she isn't coming back. Not willing to accept this bitter goodbye without answers, Morgan, Reid, and the rest of the team dig for the truth.
1. Chapter 1

**[A/N]:** _Hello again! This is another AU but I wanted it to be separate from my series. This idea has been bugging me for a while now, so I thought I would give it the chance to come to life. I'm a sucker for angst, but I'm also looking forward to the character development that I get to play with in this fic. Hopefully the idea isn't too difficult to follow. Also, I suppose this fic could be read as Morgan/Prentiss, but really, it's more of a friendship/team fic._

 _Please let me know what you think! I've gone through it quite a few times, but I always seem to miss a spelling errors or something of the like. If that is the case, please feel free to point it out to me._

 _Hope you enjoy! :)_

* * *

 **August 21** **st** , **2013**

 **San Francisco, CA**

* * *

The buzz of the chattering saturated the atmosphere, lightening the mood after a week of working a long case. The music in the bar seemed to drown out the laughter of the small group as they finished up the last of their drinks and began to gather up their stuff.

"Admit it! I drank you under the table, pretty boy," Morgan chuckled, obviously inebriated. It was slightly concerning, considering the agent was usually the least affected by alcohol.

"Was there ever really any doubt that you _wouldn't?_ " Reid muttered and the rest looked on, amused, as the younger man burped lightly. "How many did I get in?"

JJ shrugged her coat on and gave him a pat on the shoulder, "Including the last shot that you practically spilled? I would say about four."

"I wouldn't count it. Most of the liquor ended up on the table anyway," Rossi pointed out.

"So, three," JJ corrected.

Morgan shook his head, grinning at his friends and following Hotch, who had proceeded to begin to lead them out of the bar. He loved nights after a case well resolved. More often than not, they didn't get the happy ending. Most of their weekends were spent alone in their homes – letting the thoughts of the previous case haunt them. And even at the end of a _good_ week, people like JJ or Hotch wanted nothing more than to go home and be with their kids. It was rare for them to ever have evenings with the team together.

And only once in a blue moon did they agree on drinking.

So, Morgan had decided early on that he was going to make the most of it.

He swung a lazy arm over Reid's shoulder, "Don't worry, kid. We'll choose something lighter next time."

"Great," Reid gagged slightly and coughed. "Can't wait."

They all laughed at that and exited the bar one by one as Hotch held the door open for them all, probably seeing it as his responsibility as their boss to make sure they all made it back to the hotel in one piece. Morgan wouldn't be surprised if he had already sobered up.

He was a good man like that.

A cool night breeze flowed past them immediately after stepping across the building's threshold and outside towards the pavement. Morgan felt the frigid air cool his head and help clear the fuzziness in his mind. He closed his eyes and stretched a bit, feeling extremely satisfied after a few rounds of drinks with his friends and an eased conscience.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Emily standing patiently beside JJ and Rossi, who were speaking to one another animatedly. He watched as her gaze swept over the team, her expression soft only until her eyes met his and became suddenly alert. She gave him a small smile, but Morgan still felt that something was off.

He unlatched himself Reid and slowly walked over to where the brunette was leaning against the wall. The look that she gave him only sent a wave of concern to his brain. _Why does she look so uncomfortable?_ _Is she sick? Maybe she was hurt during Mandell's takedown earlier._

Morgan put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey."

She smiled lightly, "Hey."

He angled his head so he could see her eyes more clearly, as if that would help him to understand why she was acting so strangely, "You okay?"

Her head bobbed quickly. "Yeah. Just a little tired. I think my head got rattled around a bit too much today, but I'm fine." Her eyes darted to the side for a split second before going back up to his face again.

 _Lie._

"You seem a bit quieter than usual. You didn't get hurt earlier, did you? That was some hit." Morgan remembered how close Emily was to being tossed down a flight of stairs by their unsub. They had both been checking the top floor of the house when Mandell got the jump on her. It was only because of quick thinking on her part that she came out of the fight relatively unharmed.

She scoffed sarcastically, giving him a playful eye roll, "Yeah – tell that to my shoulder. Remind me to never tackle a guy sixty pounds heavier than me unless I want to have a sore shoulder the next week."

Morgan let out a little laugh at that, then became somber, "So, you're good?"

Her eyes flickered over to him and she gave him a sad look.

 _So she remembers, too,_ he thought. It was the same thing he asked her before she disappeared to hunt after Doyle.

Before she died.

She replied gently, "I'm good."

"And you would tell me if you weren't, right?" He asked her, trying to find the answer in her eyes.

He didn't miss the second of hesitation before she nodded, "I will."

Morgan stared at her for just a bit longer, trying to grasp something in her expression that he hadn't seen already. Their conversation was ended abruptly when Hotch addressed them all.

"Alright everyone, go back to the hotel and get some sleep. We fly back home at 9AM sharp," Hotch told them. Their flight had been delayed due to a large power outage back in DC. "I'm going to make a quick stop by the station again, so it might be better for you all to go without me."

"I'll go with you. I think I left my briefcase in the conference room," Rossi said.

Hotch nodded, "We'll leave the two SUVs with you. Prentiss, JJ, you're driving," The Unit Chief left no room for the other two intoxicated men to argue, and truthfully, they knew better not to. Both women had opted to have very little to drink in comparison to their colleagues. Morgan and Reid mumbled goodbyes to their departing co-workers while JJ and Prentiss got their keys out.

Morgan sighed and looked over to the women, whom of which were already walking to their respective vehicles. He was about to head towards the car that Prentiss opening, but Reid suddenly spoke up. "Prentiss! Can I ride with you?"

The older agent turned around curiously only to find Reid stumbling over to the SUV hurriedly. Morgan felt his brow rise on its own at the unusual request. It was never set in stone, but it was usually JJ and Reid, and him and Prentiss. The rotation moved around occasionally, but that was only because they were assigned that way. Morgan had no problem with switching, but Prentiss was his partner.

"I – uh... wanted to talk to you about the Star Trek marathon," was all the younger man had said and Morgan noticed the uncertain glances that he kept shooting between the remaining agents.

Morgan did, however, miss the glare that Emily was giving Reid behind his back.

She covered it up just as he turned towards her. "Yeah, sure. Hope you don't mind, Derek."

He simply smiled good-naturedly at his friend, "No problem, Princess. JJ and I can just talk shop."

"Nu uh, no more talking about work until we get back in the office!" Prentiss give him a pointed look as she popped the driver's door open.

He chuckled as he did the same to the passenger door to JJ's car. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

 **September 29** **th** **, 2013**

 **Quantico, Virginia**

* * *

It was a quiet evening in the office and most of the agents had already gone home for the night. Only a few lights were still lit in the office, that of which belonging to Dave Rossi and Aaron Hotchner. It was unsurprising for the two to be the remaining, as they often used this time to catch up. Despite the fact that they worked with each other almost every day, there wasn't a lot of time to converse on other matters. Ever since Dave had returned to the BAU, they liked to chat with one another over cases, family, and a number of trivial things.

This time, their discussion drifted into a different direction, one that he usually prefers to stay clear of to avoid involuntarily profiling his colleagues.

Tonight, they were camped out in Hotch's office, both of them carrying whiskey glasses as they sat through a small stall in the conversation.

"You know, it's been almost a year now," Dave mentioned loosely.

Aaron was leaned back in his chair, holding the drink a few inches from his lips. "What do you mean?" He had a feeling he knew what his friend was referring to, but it was rare for Dave to ever bring something up without reason. Aaron just wasn't sure that he wanted to open up that can of worms tonight.

"Since she's been back," his elder answered easily. "It's been nearly a year."

The Unit Chief sighed, "I assume you're referring to Emily?"

Rossi nodded thoughtfully, "You'd be correct." Then he stopped and thought for a moment, contemplating his next words carefully. "She's been a bit... _off_ lately."

"Prentiss knows that we're here for her if she needs anything."

"I know that, but… Dammit, Aaron, she fell asleep on the jet with her coffee still in her hand. There's something wrong - I just feel like there's something..." Dave looked at him and he could see the impatience in his friend's gaze.

Aaron countered, "What do you want me to do, Dave? I won't force her to talk to me."

Dave deflated at that, "I know... I know."

The younger man ran a hand across his face. He was well aware of the strange behavior coming from his agent. In fact, Aaron had witnessed it firsthand quite a few times. Before, it was simple things. He would notice that she was always the first in the office and on the jet. During cases, she always seemed to have dark circles beneath her eyes, no matter how many times he had insisted to get some rest.

And really, that was all he could do. Prentiss was not the type to ask for aid, that much was seen with the Doyle situation. He had to twist her arm a bit just to get her to agree to even _think_ of talking to him about her problems or when she was having her "bad days". Other than that, there was little he could do without ordering the woman to open up to him or one of the other members of the team. And there was no way in hell he was going to try that.

Emily Prentiss had been through a lot within the span of ten years, so if anything, she deserved a little privacy. He knew that since she got back, each member of the team felt the need to hover over her, whether it was morning jogs with Morgan, or nights out with the girls. Aaron wouldn't be the one to intrude on what little time she had to herself.

However, Prentiss' actions had started to become more and more concerning with each day, and he was afraid that he may have to address it sooner rather than later. The last thing he wanted was to see his agent - his _friend_ \- who had given up so much, crumble under some unknown pressure when they could have done something to help. But he knew she would never accept any straightforward questioning.

And this was why Aaron was so conflicted.

"Think it's something from her CIA days again?" Dave asked quietly.

Aaron replied grimly, "I certainly hope not." It was not a secret that Prentiss' past was rather bleak. Unfortunately, many of the others on his team had this in common.

The other man shook his head sadly and stared into his empty glass, "When will that girl get a break…?"

Aaron couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

Dave added with a lighter tone this time, "She saved that girl's life today."

"We almost missed her," Aaron mumbled before he took a sip from his nearly empty glass.

Flashes of memories from earlier that day ran through his head. He remembers being with Prentiss and Reid going through the front of the house while JJ, Morgan, and Dave were to cover the back. Aaron recalls the loud screams of young Anna Byers echo through the building and his own orders of " _move_ _, move!"_ through the comms. He and Reid had rushed forwards towards the staircase and in the corner of his eye he could see Dave, Morgan, and JJ dash into the house to back them up. It was then that Aaron realized that Prentiss was not in front of them anymore.

* * *

" _Prentiss?" He called into the comm._

" _He's going to go out the back!" She replied quickly._

 _Both he and Morgan headed up the front and busted into the locked room where the source of the squeals were. Aaron had barely enough time to see the back of Johnny Wicker and the struggling form of the little girl before the man pulled her into his arms and carried her out of the open window that lead to the backyard. The team surged forwards except for Morgan, who practically threw himself down the side of the house after the man. The team watched as the Unsub had now regained his balance and picked the girl up again, ready to make a run for it._

 _However, he wasn't able to get very far as Prentiss came darting out from the darkness and smacked the man with the end of her gun. Wicker was a heftier man, so the blow had only fazed him enough to drop Anna and turn his attention towards the female agent. The Unsub didn't waste any time in taking out his gun and pointing it right at Prentiss, but he was quickly disabled when Morgan recovered from his jump and rammed into the man's side. A collective sigh of relief went through them all at the sight of Morgan cuffing Wicker and Prentiss comforting the traumatized girl._

* * *

"Morgan and Prentiss did good today," Rossi commented on what they both already knew. There was a reason why Aaron had put them together in the field in the first place. They worked well together and he would have been a fool to not utilize their partnership.

So, Aaron agreed, "They did." But he didn't voice what was really on his mind.

 _How did she know?_ Aaron wondered, and his brow creased in thought.

Everyone else had gone after the Unsub on the second story of the house and the only reason Morgan was able to reach him was because he followed the man through the window. So how had Prentiss known that Wicker was going to go out towards the backyard?

While he was lost in thought, he almost didn't notice Dave stand from his seat and bid him goodnight. Aaron watched his friend go before shaking his head and standing, as well.

Perhaps he had just had too much to drink.

* * *

 **October 12** **th** **, 2013**

 **Georgetown, Virginia**

* * *

Both JJ and Emily waved goodbye to the others as they headed towards the door. Morgan was supporting a very wobbly Garcia while telling them both to get home safe.

"And make sure Em doesn't puke in your car!" Morgan teased.

Emily threw up her favorite "simple gesture" behind them while JJ laughed at her friend's grumpiness.

The entire group had gone to Rossi's that night for a small celebration in light of Emily's birthday. Needless to say, there was more than a couple drinks exchanged, but even then, the party had been fairly mellow. She and Garcia had been the one to set everything up, and they both knew that anything more than a simple night with friends would not be something Emily would enjoy.

JJ unlocked her car and helped Emily load the box full of presents into the back of her car before getting into the front seat. She started the engine quickly and cranked up the heat, causing both women to sigh comfortably. Emily was zipping up her jacket as JJ pulled out of Rossi's driveway.

"You would think after living in places like Russia I would be used to this by now," Emily mumbled and placed her hands next to the air vents.

JJ smirked, "You would think."

"Guess my birthday wish didn't come true then," the brunette chuckled bitterly. JJ saw her lean back against the leather seat of her car, trying to get comfortable.

"Oh?" JJ wondered, raising a brow at her friend while still keeping an eye on the road. "And what exactly was your wish?"

"Well, it _was_ that I wouldn't have to freeze to death this year. Looks like that isn't happening… Remember how my heat went out a couple years ago during winter?"

She vaguely remembered the other woman having to call out sick for almost a week because of a bad case of the flu. JJ knows the brunette still blames her chilled apartment for getting her ill.

"Listen, Em, I promise that if the same thing happens to you this year, you can come stay in our extra bedroom," JJ offered.

"Winter's a long time, Jayje."

"I mean it."

Emily shook her head, "It's fine, really. I'm just being dramatic. Plus, I wouldn't want to intrude or anything. It just means I'm going to need to double up on blankets again."

JJ shot her friend a look, "Seriously, Em. Will won't mind, and Henry loves you. You aren't intruding if I'm inviting you." Emily shook her head again, causing the younger woman to frown.

It made her heart ache to know that Emily would rather spend the winter cold and alone just because she thought it would inconvenience her family. Hell, Emily _was_ family, and it was a bit disheartening that she felt that way after all they had been through. JJ just wished that she would talk to her - or Hotch, or Morgan, _somebody._ Over the past couple of months, she had noticed the other woman had become slightly more withdrawn. Not the same way she was during the Doyle predicament, that kind of behavior would have definitely set off alarm bells for them all. No, this was different.

She was still there, but a lot of times, someone would catch her too far gone in her thoughts - as if her mind had too much to focus on at once. And whenever someone would try to confront her about her behavior, she either denied it or made a witty joke of it. JJ hoped that being alone with her friend would be the key to getting her to open up.

And at first, she was wrong.

"Em… Are you alright?" JJ asked tentatively.

"Fine. Just a bit tired. I never thought hanging around drinking would drain me this much," Emily said amusedly.

"Well, it's not just that," JJ continued to probe. "I don't know; you seem… Is there anything bothering you, maybe?"

And just as she thought, Emily deflected, like she usually did whenever someone broached a topic she would rather not talk about.

"Nope. I'm fine," Emily answered easily. "But if I don't get home and soak these chilled bones soon, we may have a real problem."

 _Dammit,_ JJ cursed mentally, but took the rejection in stride. Instead she brought back a lighter tone, "Garcia did get you that care kit. Though, I think she went a bit overboard with the bath bombs."

"There can never be too many bath bombs," Emily grinned, shivering slightly. "You know, maybe I'll go to California for Christmas. I'm kind of over the whole 'white Christmas' thing… I want to be able to go to the beach on Christmas Eve..."

The rest of the car ride went smoothly with both of them gossiping about tons of random things ranging from Hotch's new tie to Anderson's promotion. It was only until they were nearing Emily's apartment that the conversation leveled out into a steady silence.

They were just a few blocks from Emily's complex when she suddenly asked in a voice so soft that JJ almost didn't hear her, "What do you do when you're stuck, Jayje?"

Her eyes widened at the question, but she kept her tone neutral. This was the opportunity she had needed. "What do you mean?" JJ inquired carefully

Emily went on, not looking towards JJ, but out of the foggy windshield instead. Her eyes seemed to be gazing out beyond the streets, her mind somewhere far away, "What do you do when you're stuck… When you've thought about all the options, but you still can't decide on what you want?"

JJ tried to rapidly analyze the information she had just been given about her friend before answering. _Decision? What decision? About the job? About love? There's something deeper here, but what is it!_

Her hands gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter as she tried to stay casual. "Maybe it just means you need another opinion. You've seen all you can, maybe there's another choice there that you haven't thought of."

"I don't think I _have_ a choice," Emily admitted in a whisper, speaking more to herself than to JJ.

"There's always another option, Em." _Please believe that. Please, Emily. Don't shut us out again._

Emily was just about to reply when they pulled in front of her apartment. JJ was tempted to keep driving just to keep her friend talking now that she was finally opening up. _No!_ She screamed in her head, as her friend began to gather up her things, obviously finished with the conversation.

"Thanks for the ride, JJ. I had a lot of fun tonight," Emily smiled lightly and exited the car, grabbing her gifts out of the backseat swiftly.

"Emily-!" JJ called out, trying desperately to make the woman stay and tell her what her " _choice"_ was.

"I'll see you on Monday," was all Emily said, and she waved to her when she passed the window again. Then, she turned around to head into her gated complex, leaving her friend staring after her, utterly confused and frustrated. She hadn't even been able to wish her a happy birthday one last time.

JJ sat there for a few more seconds before shifting her car into drive and rolling away, feeling even more uneasy than before.

* * *

 **November 2** **nd** **, 2013**

 **Alexandria, Virginia**

* * *

Two black SUVs and a squad car pulled up to a decently sized warehouse at the edge of Alexandria. The team quickly filed out of the cars and congregated together for one last game plan.

"How are we gonna go about this?" Officer Jeremy Olsen asked while making sure his vest was strapped on tight. The BAU agents were doing the same.

Hotch answered, "According to Garcia, there are three entrances. Morgan, Prentiss and Lieutenant Cavanaugh, go through the right, JJ, Rossi and Reid, you'll go through the left. You and I will head up the front, if that's alright."

"Sounds fine to me," the Captain agreed and gave his Lieutenant a small nod. "Let's catch this bastard."

"Everyone stay on your comms no matter what. This place isn't huge, but it's practically a labyrinth in the dark. Stevens has the advantage," Hotch gave the final warning and with that the units departed quickly.

Morgan moved forward, trying to stay even with Prentiss' pace while the Lieutenant covered their backs. The three moved steady, but hurriedly, knowing that the last victim wouldn't have that much time.

They had been tracking this Unsub for over a week. A few days ago they came up with a profile. He was a white male in his fifties that enjoyed to watch others suffer. As the stereotypical sadist, the team had found nothing but gruesome abuse and rage towards the victims when they saw the dumped bodies. It was earlier that day that Garcia was able to find a match in Remy Stevens. She tracked down his personal records and they found out that his wife had died almost six months ago, right when the murders had started. Garcia had given them a list of abandoned properties in the area and they were able to narrow it down.

" _The victims had feathery things in their hair, right? There's an abandoned pillow and mattress factory on here,"_ Garcia had wasted no time in sending them the address after that.

It was eerily quiet throughout the building and Morgan was fairly certain that he could hear the occasional scampering of rats whenever they edged a corner. Dust permeated the air and left a musty smell that was beginning to grow stronger as they strayed deeper down the corridors. Hotch had been right, even with the dim lights of the factory on, it was still difficult to see.

"Morgan," Prentiss hissed, causing him to turn towards his partner. "We're in the right place." He looked down at what she had been staring at and he wasn't surprised when a trail of dried blood peppered the ground.

"Jesus…" The Lieutenant whispered as his wide eyes followed the crimson path.

They were about to continue onward when a loud cry echoed through against the stone walls, "NO! Please!" It had to be Sadie Williams, their missing girl.

Morgan barely blinked before Prentiss dashed off ahead of him, causing him to jump into action as well. He had only been slightly behind her when they raced into the dark room together, both catching the sight of Remy Stevens holding a knife over the cowering form of Sadie Williams. Prentiss got to him first and managed to kick the knife from his hand before she was shoved against the wall. Morgan rushed the man, not thinking twice about how things were about to play out.

There was a grunt from Stevens when they impacted and fell to the floor. Morgan felt a sharp pain in his chest when the man's foot slammed him back to the ground. He got up as quickly as he could and was shocked when he saw Stevens pull a magnum from under his shirt and point it towards Sadie and Prentiss.

Two shots went off and suddenly, Stevens' body was falling to the floor with a round dot on the side of his head while the Lieutenant slowly lowered his gun. At the same time, a scream of pain came from the younger girl, who was now clutching at her right shoulder with tears streaking down her cheeks. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Prentiss slowly attempting to get to her knees and Morgan felt an instant surge of concern for his partner, causing his gut to clench. He wanted nothing more than to go help her up and walk her out of the damned room, but he had to get pressure on Sadie's wounds before she bled out.

The Lieutenant's instantly began to make a call through his walkie. "I need an ambulance; we've got a twenty-three year-old female with a gunshot wound to the shoulder…"

He slid over to the woman's side and tried to calm her down, "Hey - hey! Sadie, it's okay. My name's Derek, I'm with the FBI. I need to stop your wound from bleeding, okay?" Fearful eyes stared back up at him and darted towards the corners of the room, like a frightened animal. "It's okay! It's okay; that man can't hurt you anymore - He's dead. Now I'm going to press my hands against your shoulder, okay? I need you to nod for me."

The woman sucked in a breath, but quickly moved her head in agreement.

"This is gonna hurt, but you're gonna be okay. Just squeeze my friend's hand if it gets too bad," Morgan gestured for the Lieutenant to join him Sadie's left side and then wasted no time in applying pressure to her wound.

Sadie whimpered and clenched her eyes shut and Morgan took that time to push her forward slightly and check how bad the exit was, but there was nothing.

" _Morgan, Prentiss! Report!"_ Hotch's voice came through over the comm in his ear. He had almost forgotten that he had it in.

"The Unsub is dead and we found Sadie Williams. She's injured, but it was a closed shoulder shot," Morgan relayed.

" _He never used guns on any of his other victims,_ " Reid cut through the static this time.

"I know; it doesn't fit the profile or his MO. The guy had a revolver in under his shirt."

Hotch was quiet for a moment and Morgan could hear slight shuffling in the background. " _We'll review the profile later. We're on our way to you right now._ "

Morgan finished the conversation and turned his attention back towards Sadie's wound. The Lieutenant did a good job at keeping her talking and focused elsewhere, allowing him to check the injury again. He slowly lifted his hand and inspected her again. If there was no exit wound, then the bullet had to be in her shoulder still.

And sure enough, when he checked he saw the glint of the end of the brass bullet on the surface of her flesh. His brow furrowed. _A bullet from a magnum that close would have at least gone through…_

Then it clicked.

Morgan whipped his head around to find Emily lying with her face against the concrete floor and her eyes shut. "No, no, no. Prentiss!" He disconnected his hands from Sadie's shoulder and told the Lieutenant hurriedly, "Take over for me and call another ambulance."

The blood rushing to his ears blocked out the frantic stammering of the officer and the shrill questioning of "what's wrong?" coming from the blonde. His body seemed to move ten times slower so that when he finally got to Emily's side, it felt like an eternity had passed. His breath hitched in his throat when he recognized the dark spot of blood surrounding a ragged exit wound that had gone through her vest.

He slowly flipped her onto her back and immediately pressed his ear to her chest and was alarmed to find that he could barely hear anything. Morgan made quick work of getting the ruined vest off of her and pressing his already bloodied hands against the wound on her chest. "Come on, Prentiss, you gotta wake up."

Relief flooded through him for just a short moment when he saw her eyes crack open slightly. "Morgan…?"

"Yeah, baby, it's me. You're gonna be alright, just stay with me," he tried to keep his tone light, but the feeling of dread was worming its way deeper into his stomach. There was already a pool of blood creeping out from beneath her body.

She took in a breath and his heart clenched when she cried out. Her breaths were shallow now and he feared that his hands against her chest weren't helping at all. "I-Is he dead? St-Stevens?

"Don't worry about him, just focus on your breathing, just-," Morgan faltered and he felt tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. _Where the hell is everyone, dammit?_

"Hey," Prentiss whispered. "It's o-okay. It's okay."

The words made Morgan want to scream. _How can she be so calm about this?!_ No one should be that comfortable with death, and especially not someone like Emily Prentiss. How could someone that had done so much good in her life still have bad things happen to her?

 _It's not fair._

"No!" Morgan finally choked out. "No, it is _not_ okay! Don't you dare give in!"

And then, in the blink of an eye, Emily appeared more lucid than ever. But her gaze carried a sadness to them that he had never seen before - as if she had already accepted her fate.

She was gasping for breath now. "I-It has t-to end. I'm s-s-sorry," she murmured shakily as her eyelids fluttered shut.

"No, Emily!" He shook her slightly. "What has to end?"

But he didn't get a response. Not even a twitch.

He listened again for her pulse, but didn't find one.

"No, no, no! Emily, don't do this! Please, don't do this!" Morgan pleaded under his breath and immediately began to perform CPR. He didn't know how long he had repeated the procedure, but eventually he felt someone pull him back.

He somewhat remembers fighting against the force holding him and spouting incoherent sentences, trying to get back to Emily.

He vaguely remembers JJ crying by his side and Reid visibly shaking.

He remembers how Emily's breath had slowed and what it felt like when the last rush of air left her body.

But most of all, he clearly remembers the final moments of Emily Prentiss' life and her last words to him.

 _"I'm sorry."_


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N]:** _Hey guys! Sorry that it took so long to get this written out, and sorry that it's so short compared to the first chapter. I was really trying to work on it whenever I could but school has been kicking my ass. Sorry for any errors you may see._

 _Also, don't think this is coming to the end! I have a good 15 chapters of this planned out, so I hope you keep reading! This chapter is really just a bridge to the next one... Where a lot of things get revealed~ I hope you liked the Spencer POV; it was very interesting to write as him. Unlike some other characters who are more talkative, I felt that Reid would be someone who likes to internalize things before he says them._

 _With that said, I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Spencer could do nothing but stare at the ground as his mind barely registered where his feet were landing and the weight of the casket he was carrying. For the past three days, it seemed as if the sheet of tears obscuring his vision were constantly present along with the stabbing ache in his heart. Just last week he had planned do nothing after this case except maybe visit his godson and watch some new documentaries. He would have never thought that he would be burying his colleague, his friend, for a second time.

And this time, she wasn't coming back.

It all seemed like some horrible, cruel joke of the universe. He wished it would have been like the time with Doyle. He wished that Hotch or JJ would gather them all in the conference room and tell them that Emily was still alive, that she was just in hiding again.

Spencer remembered how angry and betrayed he had felt the first time, but he would not hesitate to experience all of that again if it meant that she was alive. He could recall thinking that maybe it would have hurt less if she had really died that time, if she had actually "never made it off the table". It was this day that he discovered how wrong he was.

The pain was ten times worse now - because now he would never see that bright smile from her, or hear her teasing laughter. He would never get to watch Star Trek with her again, or bring her to Comic Con like she had always wanted. And each time he thought of this, the casket at his side became heavier, and heavier.

He didn't notice that while lost in his thoughts, they had reached the end of their walk and the rest of the men had lowered the casket onto the landing. It wasn't until Rossi tapped his elbow lightly that he realized he was supposed to let go.

But he couldn't.

His hand was wrapped around the side handle of Emily's casket so tightly that he didn't think he could. Letting go somehow meant that this was all real.

At this point whispers had begun to flutter out from the small crowd of mourners behind him, but when he looked towards the others of the BAU, he felt relieved. Hotch and Morgan had been on the opposite side of him, Hotch wearing a grim expression while Morgan's eyes just seemed to reflect pain. Penelope's cheeks were glistening as she sobbed and JJ's eyes were shining with unshed tears. But Spencer could feel their gazes' upon him, and something about them said: _it's okay._

It was okay that he felt this way, because they did too.

"Come on, Spencer," Rossi nudged him gently.

Spencer nodded and swallowed when the tears had inevitably returned. He forced his fingers to loosen and the muscles in his hand to relax.

And then he let go.

* * *

The rest of the session went on slowly and by the time came to lay roses on Emily's casket, the clouds had begun to roll in. Spencer could feel the light sprinkle of rain on his fingers as he reached out and placed the flower on top of the pile while a thousand thoughts flew through his head.

 _I'm sorry we didn't get there in time._

 _I'm sorry we couldn't help you._

 _I'm sorry you're gone._

Not wanting the rest of the team to see him break down, he hurried away from the group, barely choking back a sob. A few seconds later, he found himself in JJ's arms, crying on her shoulder and feeling her hand rub his back gently. His hands flew around her torso as the need to be comforted and contact overwhelmed him. JJ attempted to whisper reassurances into his ear, but he could hear the tears in her voice as well.

"It's my fault."

"No, Spence, it's not. Don't say that," she admonished.

He shook his head against her wool coat, "She was acting strange… I've known she has ever since San Francisco."

JJ pulled him away and grasped his shoulders, "Spencer. Look at me – _hey_ – look." She stared intensely into his gaze. "Emily is not dead because of you. She died saving a young woman from a horrible killer. If she hadn't stepped in front of that bullet, Sarah would probably be dead right now."

Spencer heard all of this, but he still couldn't bring himself to believe it. He _should_ have been able to do something; they all should have. The feeling that had seized him when he saw Morgan cradling Emily in his arms, begging her to come back - it was possibly the worst thing he had to experience in his entire life. The helplessness had been suffocating, and now that everything was finalized, now that everything was so very _real_ , the ache had returned.

"JJ, something was bothering her," he started. "Maybe if we had just -."

The blonde shook her head firmly. "This wasn't like Doyle, Spence… I know that she was having some issues, but that had nothing to do with Stevens."

"But if -."

"Spence, it wasn't anyone else's fault but Stevens. I need you to understand that," JJ nearly pleaded. He saw a few tears starting to slip down her cheeks and this time, Spencer was the one to envelope her in his arms. "Emily died fighting for what she believed in. Remembering that is the only way we'll make it through this, okay?"

He could only nod in reply as his frame began to shake once again. And he wasn't sure how long they clung together under the drizzle of the clouds, but soon he sensed another presence around him.

Spencer released his hold on his friend and looked around to see the rest of the team heading towards them. Both Hotch and Rossi looked resigned, while Morgan and Garcia were linked at the arm with the latter still shedding tears and the former staring at the ground quietly. JJ was the first to speak.

"Hey, guys," she wiped at her eyes and sniffed.

"Jayje…" Garcia was barely able to contain her cries before unlinking herself from Morgan and hugging the other woman. Spencer could see the expressions of the other men become ten times darker at the sound of their friends mourning.

After what felt like decades, Hotch cleared his throat, "I'm sure this brings you little comfort, my request for the team to be taken off rotation has been accepted. Please take the next two weeks to recuperate and heal."

No one responded to him, but Spencer was fairly certain that he hadn't expected them to. He was a profiler, after all.

"I suggest that we all go back to my place to settle down. Just for the day…" Rossi said somberly.

"I don't know, Dave…" Hotch started hesitantly.

"You have to!" The analyst tore herself from JJ in order to turn towards the unit chief, who appeared alarmed by the outburst. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping boundaries, sir, but I really think we should all be together right now! No one deserves to mourn alone."

Hotch's eyes darted around to them all, and Spencer thought that he was going to decline the invitation. But instead, the man simply nodded quickly.

"You're right, Penelope," Hotch sighed. "No one should be alone right now. And that goes for the next two weeks, as well." Spencer noticed that the unit chief had sent a purposeful glance in Morgan's direction, whom of which had either not seen the look, or had decided to ignore it.

JJ replied, "I'll go tell Will I won't be home until later. Can I ride with you, Pen?"

"Of course, muffin."

Spencer took one last look back at Emily's casket as it was lowered into the ground before he felt a hand grip his shoulder. He turned his head slowly to find Morgan beside him, staring ahead of them. "Let's go, kid…"

At that moment, he felt the urge to glance back over her shoulder one last time, but he squashed the feeling.

"Yeah… Let's go."

* * *

The next week, the team was still on desk duty and the office was even more quiet than usual. Every day, Spencer would walk passed the Wall of the Fallen and find Emily's picture up there… again. The others had done the same thing at first, but it was only he and Garcia that still made it a daily ritual to stay for longer than ten minutes. He figured it was too painful for the rest of them.

Today, he did the same thing.

He dropped off his daily letter to his mother, arrived at work around six-thirty, and then went in to see Emily. The picture was in the same place, as usual, but this time he noticed a small smudge in the corner of the glass. Spencer took the edge of his sleeve and rubbed at it with the cloth until it was clean. While he did so, he began his mental message to her.

 _Hey, Emily._

 _Thought I would come see you again. Did you see Rossi come by the other day, too? I noticed he stopped by for only a few seconds, but understand that it's been hard on everyone since you… Anyway, JJ and Garcia meetup a lot. I don't think Garcia is handling things too well, but JJ has really been trying to help her out. I would try to comfort her too, but I think JJ is just better at things like that. Hotch has been more broody than usual and he hardly comes out of is office._

 _Speaking of offices, Morgan_ never _comes out of his. I don't even know if he's been coming to work for the past few days. I remember him leaving twice, but I never see him during the day. I know that I should probably try to talk to him, but I don't know if he'd appreciate the company. After what happened at Rossi's last week… He hasn't been the same._

 _I know you probably don't want to hear this so I'll change topics._

 _I heard from JJ earlier that we were asked to be on a case in California, but Hotch refused and handed it to some other team. I think it was near Yosemite, I think. I remember you always said you wanted to go there. I always found it funny that after traveling all over the globe, you were still so caught up on places like Big Bear and Disney World._

 _Remember the last time we were in California? The San Francisco case? I was wondering why you were acting strange, but you never told me… What was in that book you had? You kept hiding it from me so I never got to know…_

Spencer felt his eyes begin to water, and he figured that was the right time to stop his mental conversation with Emily. He gave the glass one last polish as he sniffed quietly and turned away, readjusting his bag over his shoulder and making his way over to his desk.

 _It must've been one hell of a story, though._


	3. Chapter 3

**[A/N]:** _Hello all! I'm sorry this is pretty late, but school is the worst and I could not find the time to write other than on my phone and I couldn't stand that. I waited a while until I had some time to actually sit down and hash out a chapter, so thanks for the patience!_ _I really wanted to have a chapter just dedicated to Derek and how he was feeling about it all. Of all the members of the team, I think that he would feel the most torn up about Emily's death, especially since he was there when it happened. Sorry for the loads of angst, but it will get better, I promise! I mean for this to be a team fic and focus on the bonds that everyone has with one another._

 _I'm not sure if anyone reads this, but thanks and thank you for giving this fic a try! I know it's very slow at the moment, but by the end of the next chapter, things will start making a bit more sense._ _I already have a good page or two of the next one done, so I hope to get it out on time. We're jumping back to Reid next time!_

 _Thanks for reading and sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes you may find. - Sam_

* * *

Derek stared at a framed picture of the team smiling together on Reid's 30th birthday. JJ and Emily were on either side of the younger man, both had their mouths open in laughter. Rossi and Hotch were off to the side, clapping and smiling, while Derek spotted Garcia and himself next to Emily as they grinned widely at the camera. Taking the picture into his hands, he continued to stare at it, as if doing so might bring him back to happier times.

Today was the last day that they had off before they were put on rotation again and it was also the day that they had all agreed to get together to clear out Emily's desk.

Well, almost everyone.

Derek did not intend to go through his old partner's belongings again. It had been painful and incredibly slow the first time it happened. Derek remembered Reid taking the time to look at all the books that Emily had stored underneath her desk. He remembered Rossi diligently placing her things into the boxes slowly, only pausing to stare at the team photos she had. He remembered Garcia barely containing tears when she found Emily's goth high school picture saved in her drawers.

One time was enough for him.

He knew it was wrong and selfish to do this to her and Derek was certain that if Emily were there right then, she would have kicked his ass a long time ago for acting so petty, but that was just it.

Emily wasn't there. She was dead.

And Derek couldn't stop thinking that it was his fault. The night at Rossi's after Emily's funeral had been what sent him over the edge.

* * *

 _ **Nov. 5 - At Rossi's**_

It was a quiet night at the Rossi mansion except for the low rumblings of the group as they retold stories of their missing profiler, and laughed at all the good times they had with her. JJ, Garcia, and Rossi had all had plenty to drink and were now remembering the time when Emily had spilt coffee all over Hotch's white dress shirt while the man himself sat back and listened with a bemused expression. Reid was fiddling with his wine glass quietly, but every once and awhile a small smile appeared on the young profiler's face, and Derek knew he was listening.

After an hour or so more of sitting around and listening to the retells of Emily Prentiss' life, Derek had decided it was time for an air break and walked onto the veranda, taking comfort in the cool breeze that the night provided - a complete contrast from the stuffiness of the room he had just left. He spent a long time staring at the stars, trying to remember what his momma had told him after his dad had died.

" _When a person that is close to you dies, they become one of the brightest stars in the sky…"_

 _I really hope that's true, momma_ , he thought. And after a few more minutes of standing alone with the stars, he heard the clicking of heels from behind him.

"Morgan…" Derek turned around and wasn't surprised to see Garcia standing beside him with bloodshot eyes and a tissue in hand. Her cheeks were tinted red slightly to show that she had definitely had a few drinks. "How are you?"

He nearly scoffed, but instead he just pressed his jaw together to prevent from blowing up at the one person he really needed right then. "I'm fine, baby girl," he ground out and took that chance to look back down at the interesting pattern on the flooring under his feet.

The sound of shuffling moved closer towards him, but he wasn't expecting arms to wrap around him so suddenly. He reacted - pushing the arms away in an alarmed state – all while moving away hurriedly, only to look back and see the stricken look on Garcia's face.

"Garica… I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He started, but then drifted off when he realized how pathetic his apology would sound.

"Derek Morgan," the blonde interrupted angrily, and Derek wanted to kick himself for being the cause of the film of tears in her eyes. "Don't you _dare_ push us away. Emily was beautiful, smart, and one of the bravest people I've ever known and she certainly did _not_ deserve to die. I know you were close with her and you were a super badass duo, but -," she paused in her rambling to try and stifle her sniffles. "We miss her too, Derek. So please don't go through this on your own when your family is right here."

All of a sudden, the shame and guilt that had been building inside of his gut made its way out. "I don't deserve all this comfort." He kept his head down.

Garcia stammered, "How… how can you even say that?"

And then it happened.

" _It's my fault she's dead, dammit!"_ Derek couldn't contain the rage - rage that he felt towards himself more than anything- and in the moment, it felt like such a relief. He wanted to scream and shout and curse at the heavens for everything that had transpired over the last few days. He wanted someone to acknowledge that maybe he _had_ done something wrong that day when Emily was shot.

Derek wanted nothing more than for someone to actually understand how he felt.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hotch and JJ approaching while Rossi and Reid had turned around in their seats at the table to get a better look at the commotion. He found that he couldn't care less and simply continued to pour his heart out. A part of him desperately needed to feel something - anything but the guilt and sadness ever since he felt Emily Prentiss die in his arms.

"It's my fault. _It's my fault_ ," Derek didn't realize how broken his voice sounded until he heard himself stumble over the simplest words. He couldn't stop now. "We went in there and I tried to take down Stevens, but I _couldn't_ and because of that he was able to get his gun and –."

Garcia rushed over and squeezed him while a new wave of tears fell from her eyes. " _Stop it_. Please just _stop_." She shushed him and brought his head down to her shoulder, causing his posture to slouch against her.

At this point, he couldn't prevent the sobs from leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around Garcia, trying to fill the empty feeling that his confession had left. "I just –," and then he heard himself echo the same words that Emily had said to him.

" _I'm sorry_."

 _I'm so sorry, Emily._

* * *

 **Present**

The rest of that evening had been spent in a familiar sense of tears and quiet. All Derek knew was that by the time he got back home, his eyes were dry and his thoughts were just as jumbled as they were before.

Later, when they returned to the office, he had gotten the sympathetic lecture from Hotch and the reassuring pats on the shoulder from Rossi, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted his partner back. It had only been two weeks without her, but her absence was already felt. It was the times when he missed their coffee runs together and their practices at the shooting ranges that he felt the most guilt. Now, whenever he stepped into Pete's Coffee, the smell of their home-brewed lattes made him sick.

Over the past few days, he had noticed that the team was hovering over him, waiting for him to erupt again. Garcia checked up on him nearly every hour and Reid had begun to walk by his office more frequently. However, while they were concerned, they understood the signs. It didn't take a profiler to figure out that he wanted to be alone.

Derek leaned back in his chair and tossed the photo onto his desk before looking up at the plaster pattern of the ceiling. He closed his eyes, feeling more exhausted than ever. He hadn't been able to sleep with the nightmares. Every time he tried, the quiet of the night would slowly morph into a different scene. The screaming of Sadie Williams came back to haunt him, the smell of iron and gunpowder made him want to retch, and the feel of Emily's blood coated his hands once again. The scene would play out just like it had before, only this time, he couldn't speak.

He could only watch as his friend choked on her own blood until she finally looked at him with dull eyes and said, " _I'm sorry._ "

Derek slammed his fist onto his desk, causing his pens to rattle against the hard wood. Those words would not leave him alone. Dozens of files remained ignored in front of him, but he couldn't keep his mind focused, and not just because of the constant reminders of Emily floating around in his head. In fact, he had been thinking about the same thing that Reid had said earlier.

" _She was acting strange… I've known she has ever since San Francisco_."

Ever since Emily's funeral, Derek had begun to ponder this. He still remembered that case from months ago, but in their line of work, it was difficult to forget anything they consulted on. However, what had stuck out the most to him was his partner's behavior that night after they had solved the case. Reid was right in saying that Emily had been acting weird, and now that he really thought about it, she had been acting like that for quite some time now. Derek just didn't want to admit it.

It was different from Doyle, but she just… wasn't _there._ Maybe he wanted to stay blind to her odd behavior, or maybe he just wanted to believe that she would come to him if something had really been bothering her - he didn't know. All he did know was that Emily was gone and something wasn't adding up.

" _It has to end._ "

 _What was she talking about…?_ Derek wondered to himself. He glanced over at the team photo once again and felt something spark within him. In an instant, he was up and rushing off towards the bullpen. It was as if some kind of revelation had hit him, but in actuality, he was finally coming to terms with what he had already known.

For the last four months of Emily Prentiss' life, something had been seriously wrong.

And Derek would not rest until he figured out what it was.


End file.
